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<title>Grandma's Watching You Today by Reign_of_Glory, UwUOwOimsorry</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564988">Grandma's Watching You Today</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory'>Reign_of_Glory</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UwUOwOimsorry/pseuds/UwUOwOimsorry'>UwUOwOimsorry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holes In The Floor of Heaven [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Hamilton - Miranda, Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy &amp; O'Keefe, Six - Marlow/Moss, The Good Place (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Diary Sort of Thing, Gen, Heather likes Shakespeare, Heather's lonely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:13:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reign_of_Glory/pseuds/Reign_of_Glory, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UwUOwOimsorry/pseuds/UwUOwOimsorry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Heather Chandler starts a journal of sorts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holes In The Floor of Heaven [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Grandma's Watching You Today</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
<em>Hello, piece of paper. Welcome to The Good Place.
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
"Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in turn by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee, ‘Thou single wilt prove none’."
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
If anything good’s come out of this, it’s that I’ve found a book of Shakespeare in my house. The house itself is awful, but if I write down one of his sonnets every day, I’m sure I’ll find something to get me through it.</em>
</p><p>
Heather set down her pen and sighed heavily, thinking about how the day had gone. Horribly, she might have said if she were on earth, but now she didn’t even know how long a day was. She’d asked Conan about time here, but she’d only learnt that they were reaching the ‘tip of the i’ or whatever that meant.
</p><p>
<em>Indeed,</em> the blonde wrote, <em>I also was informed of what a Jeremy Bearimy is. We’re currently nearing the top of the i, though I wish we were in the dot. I’d love to see where nothing never happens.</em> Heather chuckled to herself as her pen glided across the paper, gold ink glinting in the sunlight. <em>I haven’t met any of the other residents of this neighbourhood yet; that’s to happen during orientation… Which is actually quite soon! Conan also mentioned a party taking place after orientation. It’s funny how technically it’d be my second party in twenty-four hours. That’s not stopping me.</em>
</p><p>
The freckled girl took a small pause, and she nearly dropped her pen as the realisation hit her. Right. She was <em>dead</em>. She’d never attend another <em>real</em> party because she wasn’t on <em>earth</em>. Did anyone even realise she’d been murdered? Had anyone else here been murdered?
</p><p>
<em>Nothing can stop me from doing anything,</em> Heather wrote, a sinking feeling in her stomach letting her know that her words were a lie.
</p><p>
She’d lie to herself, though, if it made herself feel better. Heather’d never been one to wallow in her own pain; she’d either drink it away or simply move on.
</p><p>
Still, as she sat at the small desk in the corner of her bedroom, she couldn’t help but feel ruined. For the first time in forever, Heather Chandler was truly and completely alone.
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://hitfoh.tumblr.com">A Tumblr! Run by me (Reigna) and Connor!</a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hope you lot enjoyed! The sonnet is Shakespeare's 8th sonnet.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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